


monsoon season

by lemonbreeze



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Canon Compliant, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Service Top, aka na jaemin, it's more feelings than sex honestly, mark coochie eyes, squint for hyung kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:02:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26770342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonbreeze/pseuds/lemonbreeze
Summary: “You can cut to the chase you know. No one is here to judge you,” Jaemin said. He feared that it was too straightforward, for Mark flinched slightly, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.“Can you do that thing where you say nice words?”
Relationships: Mark Lee/Na Jaemin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 146





	monsoon season

**Author's Note:**

> kinktober day 5: praise kink

The monsoon cycle was something that Jaemin took for granted. He went about his life, hours of practicing in the studio until the wee hours of the night. He paid the weather no mind until it catches him by surprise, raindrops falling from the sky with no warning. 

July brought about the dark clouds and overcast skies. The pitter patter of raindrops was calming but it did not wash down the stench of the city smog. Alongside with the humidity, it left a film of moisture that clung on to skin.

When September rolled around, the rain clouds seemed to shrink, leaving the skies barren and bright ocean blue. The days of sunshine kept him going, alongside the official announcement of comeback.

The weather paid no regards to his feelings and state or mind. It didn’t ask before sending droves of thunderstorms and consecutive days of gloomy days in his way.

Similarly, Mark caught him off guard one fine day – really, it wasn’t – in September, when it poured heavily outside, despite the weather forecast telling him that it would be sunny today. Except that his weather reporter was Jisung.

Jaemin had to double take when Mark turned up at the dream dorms, clad in a purple sweater, one that he hadn’t seen in forever. The ends of his gray sweatpants were stained dark from puddles and specks of smaller raindrops littered the rest of his pants.

“Mark-hyung!”

Mark looked up from where he was taking his sneakers off. Not a very good choice, Jaemin noted, but he let that thought slip like rain when Mark gave him a smile that was all dimples.

The grin that creeped up into his face grew as he tackled Mark with a hug, making duck lips just to bother him. Mark giggled but shoved him aside, his face scrunching up. There was mock disgust, but Jaemin had learnt not to take it to heart. 

“Why are you here? None of the dreamies are home today,” Jaemin asked as he peeled the foldable umbrella off Mark’s hand. He shaked it dry and left it to dry at the side of the entrance.

Not that he didn’t want Mark there, he did, they always did. All of the dreamies would always have a little chunk of their hearts reserved for Mark and eyes that shone when he entered the room. They would always miss him, even if he was near.

“You know they will nag my ear off if they knew you were here when they aren’t,” Jaemin tacked on. He didn’t want Mark to go thinking he wasn’t welcomed.

“I know. I texted Jeno earlier, he told me he’s out with Jisung and Renjun, well -“

“- Radio,” they said at the same time.

“ _Jinx_ ,” Mark laughed as he wiggled around, his limbs flailing about as he tried to stop laughing. Keyword was _try_ – he succeeded for a few seconds before bursting out into laughter again.

It did little to distract Jaemin from the dangerous train of thought running through his head. He knew that he shouldn’t be so impulsive, shouldn’t jump to conclusions.

The paper bag of goodies in Mark’s hands were starting to look more and more like bribes. 

“Have you eaten?” Mark asked after he regained his composure. He didn’t wait for Jaemin’s response and left the bag at the kitchen counter. It meant 'share it amongst yourself okay?'

“No, but I had a heavy lunch,” Jaemin answered.

“You can cut to the chase you know. No one is here to judge you,” Jaemin said after four counts. He feared that it was too straightforward, for Mark flinched slightly, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.

There was a nagging thought in Jaemin’s head. He gave Mark his hands so that he would fiddle with his fingers instead. 

From here on, it was a waiting game. He might not be a very patient man – a voice that sounded like Renjun reminded him patience and impulsiveness were not mutually exclusive – but he didn’t want to rush Mark. 

_There was satisfaction in seeing him come out of his shell on his own._

“Can you do that thing where you say nice words?”

It flipped a mental switch in Jaemin’s head. It wasn’t a hard task when Jaemin was trained to be observant, when he did it all the time — picking out little details during fansigns so that he could engage in a compliment battle with his fans.

“You’re so pretty, hyung,” Jaemin said, his free hand moving the strands of Mark’s bangs away.

“Pink hair looks good on you,” Jaemin said as his hands moved down to pinch Mark’s cheeks, “ It makes you look softer.”

Jaemin’s fingers stroked Mark's jawline gently, whose eyes fluttered shut, letting out a contented sigh. He continued the action in hopes of easing Mark into his soft mood, where he turned putty in Jaemin’s hold.

“You dressed so nicely today. Matches your hair. Did you pick it out yourself?” 

Mark nodded in response, his eyes still shut and Jaemin shifted so that both of his hands were cupping Mark’s face instead. He felt Mark’s grip on his waist. It told him everything he needed to know.

Jaemin discovered what was off with Mark’s appearance, why the hoodie was so familiar. He bought it a year and a half ago. He hadn’t even realised that it had disappeared. 

The sweater hung loosely and engulfed Mark’s lean figure that was often clad in tight-fitting shirts. Even though they were around the same height, Jaemin didn’t remember it looking quite as large on him. 

“Are you wearing my sweater? Oh my gosh, you’re so freaking cute! Do you want me to kiss you?” Jaemin cooed, his arms already winding around Mark’s waist.

Mark answered with a pale pink blush sitting on the apple of his cheeks, his head tilted down but his shiny round eyes were looking at Jaemin shyly.

“Hold up! Can I change out of these pants? They are clammy and I feel gross,” Mark said, his head snapping to the side, towards the direction of Jaemin’s room.

Jaemin couldn’t believe that he was cockblocked by the very same person that he was enamoured of.

♡

They relocated to Jaemin’s room and Mark ended up ditching pants entirely. He climbed into Jaemin’s lap, prowling on his bed like a tiger cub, his eyes chasing Jaemin. Wild. Intent.

The rain didn’t ease, thundering against Jaemin’s window loudly, drowning his whispers into Mark’s ears. 

Mark tucked his nose into Jaemin’s neck and he curled his body, bending his knee as if he wanted to be collapsed as tightly as possible. His arms were circled around under Jaemin’s armpit like a Koala.

“Are you feeling comfortable, _baby_?”

Mark made a sound from the back of his throat, something close to a whine.

“This is quite nice,” Mark answered later, when Jaemin was alternating between patting his back and rubbing it in circular motions.

“You deserve it,” Jaemin hummed.

“My baby worked so hard right? So diligent and hardworking. You did so well,” Jaemin rattled off mindlessly, continuing to stroke Mark’s waist and everywhere his hands could touch.

Turns out Mark liked it the most when Jaemin patted his head. He whispered in a tiny voice, “Can you do that more? Thank you.” He let out an embarrassingly whiny mewl when Jaemin scratched the base of his neck. It was grown out and it felt like he was petting a cat. 

It was inevitable, with the sound of the rain and slow repetitive motions, that the both of them would become drowsy. Afterall, the fatigue was deep in their bones.

Jaemin’s thighs were starting to turn sore from where they were caged around Mark’s sleepy figure, so he shifted so that they both of them could rest properly. It was quite a battle since Mark refused to budge and by the time both of their legs were stretched out, Jaemin’s arms were twice as sore.

He didn’t know how he missed it but when Mark flipped over so that he could nuzzle onto his shoulder, he felt _it._

The hardness digging into his hip jolted him fully awake, rubbing so close to where his blood was rushing to. 

Jaemin had half a mind to ignore it. He could pretend it didn’t happen tomorrow when the rain stopped. Maybe when Mark wasn’t hard. Maybe when his heart wasn’t aching just as much.

He could pretend, but when sleep ridden Mark grinded on him lazily but rhythmically, he was that close either tearing off his clothes to join Mark or throwing himself off the building. 

Jaemin tried pushing him away, lightly, in hopes to not wake up the sleeping baby in his arms. It only made Mark mumble gibberish. 

“Hyung? Can you move? Please,” Jaemin cried out. 

“Huh?” Mark asked, his ears bleary from how long they had been closed. Perhaps he was relaxed, too blissed out. He hadn’t quite realised the sticky situation they were stuck in. 

Now that they were apart, Jaemin could make out the shape of Mark’s erection under his white boxers. _Pretty._

Mark seemed to have caught his staring, because he shifted so that Jaemin was looking at his hip bone, his crotch covered with both of his hands. When Jaemin’s gaze flickered up, Mark’s eyes were jumping around but never meeting Jaemin. His face was impossibly red.

“Uh, this is awkward,” Mark muttered. 

“Petting feels _that_ good, huh?” Jaemin teased in hopes to lighten the tension in the room.

“Uh- I think? It does,” Mark admitted, his fingers rubbing the tip of his ears. Like it would make it any less red.

 _What was Jaemin supposed to say now?_ When he was trapped in between the thighs of Mark _freaking_ Lee.

“Jaemin, I- uh, I-, I want,” Mark stuttered but his volume dropped at the end, his request but a mutter.

“You are doing well, but you have to tell me what you want, Mark-hyung,” Jaemin encouraged.

When Mark gathered his wits and finally relented, he asked with a steady voice.

“I want you to fuck me.”

He asked like he was asking for nothing out of the ordinary – like asking him to sing or perform a party trick.

This time, it was Jaemin that was left gaping, not that he did not ever dream about sleeping with Mark, but not like this. Not when his preposition sounded closer to what Mark had with Yuta and Jungwoo, or so he had heard.

_Who was he to deny Mark of his pleasure?_

“You sure?” Jaemin asked.

It was directed to himself more than anything else.

A nod was all it took for Jaemin to rummage through his closet for lube before scrambling into Jeno’s room for condoms. It had been too long.

A pair white boxers had already joined his pants at the foot of the bed. Jaemin did the same, stripping down until he was left with boxers – to protect his last bit of dignity.

Mark was lying with the pillow under his head and he was still, his hands laid by his side even though he was practically buzzing, thriving off praises. It was a perfect picture of obedience.

“You use it often huh,” Mark said, his thick eyebrows wiggling in an effort to be provocative. It made Jaemin laugh, soothing the nerves slightly.

When Jaemin realised that he was referring to his lube bottle, he slapped away Mark’s pointer finger playfully and wrapped his palms around it.

What can he say! He was a man with needs.

Jaemin settled in between Mark’s thigh, brushing his knuckles across his inner thigh, where it was a little softer. He ignored his dick completely in favour of stroking his thigh, rotating between light touches and tighter grips and Mark sighs.

“Baby, you have such pretty thighs,” Jaemin mumbled against the tender flesh. He littered kisses and nibbled gently, pulling the skin in between his teeth slightly. He continued adorning the surface with more of his imprints — love bites.

“Fingers, please,” Mark begged. His eyes were glazed over, the usual stars in his eyes shrouded by a matte film. 

“What if I say no?” Jaemin teased, not that he was physically able to resist him. 

Anything to please _his_ baby. _He’s not yours_ , his brain begrudgingly supplied.

Mark let out a sobbing sound and Jaemin was quick to uncap the lube bottle and warm them up, before inserting a finger into him tentatively. He opened up for Jaemin fairly easily.

Jaemin shifted up, so that he could kiss Mark’s nipples before his tongue spread flat, flicking at the brown nub ever so often. Mark arched his back and pressed his chest when he slipped another finger in. His touch was responded with moans, Mark grinding his erection against his stomach.

When he worked him up to three fingers, he increased the speed, twisting his fingers and flicking his wrist so that the lube squenched loudly and Mark’s walls pulsed around his fingers. It was a dirty sound, dirtier than the chemical-polluted rainwater running down his glass panes.

“I think I’m ready,” Mark moaned, slapping Jaemin’s wrist away.

“Can you hold your thighs open for me?”

After putting the condom on, he held the base of his cock, spreading apart Mark’s pucker before sliding in torturously slow.

Jaemin didn’t move immediately, not even when Mark scratched his back in a silent request for him to do something. He took a moment just to breathe because it was freaking overwhelming. He took in the sounds of distant thunder, Mark pulsing gently around him, looking at him with glassy wide eyes. 

He burned that image into his retina and then, he moved. He fucked into Mark like a soldier on a mission, like it was the last thing he would do.

“Our baby takes my cock so well huh, so pretty,” Jaemin said as he slapped Mark’s hips and kissed his neck.

Mark mewled loudly at the praise as if he did knew how to speak. He met his thrusts halfway, holding his waist up until Jaemin moved one of his huge bunny soft toys under. 

When he pinched Mark’s nipple, he clenched down on Jaemin’s dick, his fingernails scratching down his back.

A heat pooled at the bottom of his belly. It was akin to being drenched in Gasoline and Jaemin's body was lighting up, every cell burning. He snapped his hips forward and chase the fire.

“When was the last time?”

“What?”

“When was the last time you had someone in you,” Jaemin grunted.

Mark climbed up, supporting himself up with his elbow and raised his eyebrow at him. He felt like he was scrutinised and a rush of guilt rose through his body. 

Jaemin’s looked away, his waist twisted awkwardly, his dick buried in Mark while simultaneously trying to get as far away from him as possible.

“Last week?”

Jaemin didn’t get how he could be so calm and collected when he felt like he was buried 6 feet under. That was just him, he reminded himself. He hadn’t even realised that he stopped moving.

“We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” Mark said, shifting his hips slightly so that he could ease Jaemin’s dick out. Jaemin felt the panic and desperation bubbling up his throat.

The worst thing was that Jaemin wanted this.

He didn’t think he deserved this – Mark digging his nails into Jaemin’s back that was bound to leave marks — burns in the presence of the holy.

“I want this so freaking much, hyung." 

“Okay. It’s okay, Jaemin.,” Mark stroked his check gently and he keened into the touch. 

A dam in him broke but the tears won’t come — barely enough to stop the wildfire that was burning him alive. 

Strangely, he felt calm, in the zone before a performance. Nervous but calm. Focused. 

He could do this.

His body was like a livewire, attentive to the moans and grunts, every twitch from Mark as he bended him into half, the back of Mark’s thighs touching his stomach. He rolled his hips forward slowly, until he was balls deep into Mark, repeating his thrusts at the same pace under Mark screamed torture.

“You’re so handsome. So good for me,” Jaemin grunted, his hands circled around Mark’s dick loosely, not quite touching.

“And this,” his thumb rubbed gently on the head of Mark’s dick before he continued, “Is just begging to be touched. Can I?”

“Please,” Mark cried out, his finger gripping harshly against his waist. There was a sheen of sweat building on his forehead and he glowed in a way that should have been impossible in the dim light. Jaemin felt his hands shake when they reached out and combed through Mark pink locks, now damp to the touch.

Jaemin held Mark’s weight with his knee and thrust lightly, trying to find the angle that worked best and hit all of the good spots. 

When Mark let out a loud gasp, his hands automatically flew up to cover his face. 

“Please, hyung, I want to see your pretty face,” Jaemin grunted. His hips snapped forward and increased his speed while jerking Mark off at the same speed. It took a few more touches and strokes until Mark was coming undone, spurting white across Jaemin’s chest. He continued to milk him through until he was a squirming mess under him and peeling his hand away.

Jaemin wanted to praise Mark but his throat clenched up and his jaw tightened. The words were hard to come, especially when nothing could begin to express how wonderfully wrecked Mark looked, with his lips parted to make way for soft pants and his eyes shiny and dazed.

Instead, his hips chased forward, Mark clenching around him to help him, leaving gentle kisses on his neck. When he reached his high, he pulled out and flopped down onto Mark abdomen.

It was hazy — coming down from his lust and vibrating with nothing but post-orgasmic high. 

This time when Mark pushed him away and this time, the tears fell. 

Mark returned minutes later with a washcloth, cleaning him while stroking his cheek and thumbing the tear away. _Fool_

It made him cry more and there were so much tears that he could taste the salt on his lips. He didn’t want to be so pathetic in front of Mark, but he presumed he had already seen the worst.

There were a pair of lips on his and he pressed back. It was gone as soon as it was there.

Belatedly, Jaemin realised that this was their first time kissing. Ever.

“Stay, please?” Jaemin croaked out, his voice raspy and sandpaper dry.

“It's raining,” Mark said fondly, his finger finding purchase in Jaemin’s hair.

"You came when it was storming," Jaemin retorted.

"You're confusing me Jaemin. Do you want me to leave?"

Jaemin thought for a moment – he didn’t have to, his answer was the same –before shaking his head, "No."

♡

Perhaps Jaemin had been too hasty in judging the rainy days so harshly upfront. He would have never considered that one day, his distaste for rain would weather down, but here he was. 

Here they were, not quite here, not quite there.

**Author's Note:**

> :( i’m sorry jaemin
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/renjunkittycat) | [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/lemonjun)


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